Hemmorage
by and she said
Summary: With the accidental death of Deputy Mayor Finch weighing heavily on her mind, Buffy desperatly seeks that answers to what happened that night, with unexpected results.


Title: Hemorrage (In My Hands)  
  
Author: emily  
  
Rating: PG, maybe R. Nothing too bad. Just language and implied shit.  
  
Feedback: Go ahead. Make my day...  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm not rich enough. They belong to Joss and all his posse of people. Lyrics copyright of Sony Music and Fuel, from their album "Something like Human".  
  
Spoilers: Season Three?? I don't know. Nothing major anyway.  
  
Authors note: This is a song fic, of another kind. Don't expect it to make too much sense, cos believe me, it won't.  
  
Dedication: For Kathrin. I love you, and don't forget that I will always be here for you, even though we are on opposites sides of the world.  
  
***** indicate change of P.O.V.  
  
~blah~ indicate thought.  
  
// blah // indicate song lyrics.  
  
// memories are just where you laid them //  
  
I wish I could just forget.  
  
~I never meant to do it, please believe me.~  
  
My inner turmoil is something that will never leave me alone. I'm gonna have to live with it for the rest of my life. And I'm a slayer, so that could be a long time. Or an extremely short time. Depends.  
  
// drag the waters till the depths give up their dead //  
  
They found the body. B said that they would find the body. I told her they wouldn't. I told her I had weighted it, dumped it.  
  
No evidence, no case.  
  
They have their evidence now.  
  
B's always right. The perfect little slayer, always doing what her watcher wanted because her slayer is still alive. Well fuck her and her 'Sarah Sunshine' world, cos I'm not going down that path. I'm choosing my own. I'm Faith the slayer and no one, not even Buffy Summers can make me do what I don't want to do. No one.  
  
*****  
  
// what did you expect to find //  
  
I had always thought that we would be a perfect match. The Chosen Two. Always together. Always there for each other. But that's changed now.  
  
She's changed.  
  
I've changed.  
  
She never seemed to care much about anything. Always with her 'Five by Five' attitude and her leather pants. I took for granted that she would always be there.  
  
The wild side to my more... controlled? style. I was always looking for a more in-depth side to her. Searching for something that I could identify as something I had in me.  
  
// was there something you left behind //  
  
But I warned her.  
  
I told her I always had her back.  
  
I told her that dumping the body wouldn't hide what we had done.  
  
I told her it would come back and bite her in the ass.  
  
I was right, and I wish I wasn't.  
  
  
  
God knows that I tried to make her see the wrong in what happened that night. I tried to tell her to turn her self in. I tried. I really did. But that's what went wrong. I tried. *I* tried. Not for her, for me. I was selfish and scared that I would be tied into what happened. I didn't want to have the blamed pinned on me. That's why I went back there. To make sure I had left nothing behind.  
  
*****  
  
I had a feeling that she would go back. I think it has something to do with that slayer connection and shit.  
  
That's why I went back too.  
  
Made sure that there was nothing that points the finger at her. Sarah Sunshine in person. She tried to tell me, and I did listen, but if I showed that I took in what she said, she would have taken me to Giles, made me tell him that I had screwed up again. It was bad enough with my first watcher. I wasn't going to go through that again.  
  
// don't you remember anything I said when I said //  
  
I remember. I repeat it to myself every hour, every minute of the day. It only took 20 some seconds for him to die, and every time I replay what she said in my head, I see him die and die and die again. Every 20 seconds of every minute of every hour of every day, I hear her voice tell me and I see him die again and again. And every time a piece of me dies with him.  
  
// don't fall away //  
  
I might leave.  
  
In more ways than one.  
  
*****  
  
// and leave me to myself //  
  
Where is she? She was supposed to come patrolling tonight with me. I want to try talking to her again. I think I can get through to her. I want to try, I don't want to be helpless.  
  
// don't fall away //  
  
Screw patrol. I have to find her. I have to find Faith.  
  
In more ways than one.  
  
*****  
  
// and leave love bleeding in my hands //  
  
My hands are dirty and no matter how much I wash them they will never be clean.  
  
~You're dirty Faith. You're a dirty little whore. You're gutter trash. You're nothing to me. Nothing.~  
  
I feel sick, my stomach is trying to escape out off my mouth, its going to win and I'm going to let it. Maybe if I let my stomach win more often, my heart will lose, and leave my mind to rest.  
  
// in my hands again //  
  
I wash my hands some more.  
  
They start to bleed.  
  
So I wash more.  
  
Anything to get rid of the blood.  
  
It haunts me.  
  
I can't escape.  
  
I know only one way.  
  
*****  
  
I've been looking for such a long time now. I've been to the Bronze, all the cemeteries, and now I'm heading up the road to her motel.  
  
I hope in not too late.  
  
*****  
  
// and leave love bleeding in my hands //  
  
They're still bleeding and I can't get them to stop.  
  
~Somebody, help me... don't forsake me. Not again. I need you.~  
  
// in my hands //  
  
I wash some more.  
  
And refuse to think.  
  
It doesn't work.  
  
I keep on seeing his face, distorted in pain. The shock, the disbelief.  
  
The realisation.  
  
Watching someone while they realise they are about to die.  
  
// love lies bleeding //  
  
I lie to myself.  
  
And I start to bleed.  
  
~Stop hurting! Please, stop the hurt!~  
  
I try to block out the pain, but its not working, nothing works. I reach for my jacket and as I pull it on, the pain in my hands intensifies. The open wounds from where I rubbed my flesh raw sting, and I know it's only going to get worse as the night goes on.  
  
*****  
  
I'm lying to myself.  
  
~Find her. Hurry, you don't have much time.~  
  
I hurry down the street, thinking the whole time that I'm not going to make it, that I'm going to be too late.  
  
I hate being late.  
  
*****  
  
// hold me now, I feel contagious //  
  
I don't want Buffy to see me this way. But I don't know how to make her blind.  
  
~She'll judge you. Like she always has. Like she always will.~  
  
I rush away from where the dumpster stands, splashing the clear liquid as I go. Some of it gets into the cuts in my hands, stinging me with pains like knifes stabbing continuously. I wince and scrunch my face up with the pain, but continue on my journey.  
  
// am I the only place that you've left to go //  
  
I run as fast as I can away from the place that brought me so much pain and head home.  
  
As I get nearer to my motel room, I sense something.  
  
I sense her.  
  
Thank god for slayer senses, because I sure as fuck don't want her to see me like this. I dump the canister in the bin near the driveway of the motel and hot tail it to my room. I slam open the door, and slam it shut behind me. Racing past the TV I turn the knob and crank the volume of some reality TV show. As they bitch about their sorry experiences I reach for the soap and get ready to do some bitching of my own.  
  
// she cries her life is like //  
  
Trying to hold back the tears, I wash the blood away from my hands, hoping to god it will leave me alone.  
  
Forever.  
  
*****  
  
// some movie black and white //  
  
I sensed her before I saw her. Her tall, lithe figure ducking hurriedly inside her motel room and turning the TV on full ball to one of those cheesy programs she likes so much. As I walk slowly to her accommodation, my nose picks up a smell that I recognize immediately.  
  
Gasoline.  
  
What the hell is she doing smelling like gasoline?  
  
*****  
  
// dead actors faking lines //  
  
The TV blares with its fake happiness as the bitching of 'reality' flickers on and off, from static to clear.  
  
~The fucking story of my life, hay? Finally thought I had it right when in reality it was only static.~  
  
I fumbled with the soap, dropping it on the floor. As I bent down to pick it up, I heard the slow but steady thump of feet falling on concrete outside my door.  
  
~Who the fuck is that?~  
  
I hurriedly wipe my tears away and rise to my feet. Trying to re-establish some dignity, I stride purposefully towards the doorway. Straining my senses, I listen out for any indication as to who might be outside waiting. A waft of something comes through the crack in the window near the door. I think hard, scrunching up my face in the process, trying to recognize the smell.  
  
And then it hit me.  
  
Literally.  
  
*****  
  
I could hear the taps running inside and what I thought was the sound of someone crying so I crept in for a closer look. I mean, this is Faith. And since when does Faith cry?  
  
I slowly edge my way closer to the front door, pacing myself, hoping she won't hear me. I pause with apprehension as I hear rapid and heavy footsteps from inside. Frozen to the spot, I wait and listen, straining my senses as far as they will go.  
  
Then, something wafts outside. A really putrid and off-smelling scent. And I remember the gas tank and fear shoots through me. I rush forward and kick open the door, bracing my feet when the door falls, ready for a fight.  
  
And next I see something that makes my heart leap into my throat.  
  
Faith lying on the floor bleeding.  
  
*****  
  
// don't fall away //  
  
Sitting up with a wince, I reach for my forehead, gently touching and probing the tender skin. Feeling something wet, I bring my hand back down and see red.  
  
~Blood! More blood! Why can't I escape it?!~  
  
"Faith! Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I didn't know you where there!"  
  
I open my eyes and see her. Sarah Sunshine herself, finally looking guilty. But for the wrong thing.  
  
// and leave me to myself //  
  
"What do you think you are doing here? Isn't trespassing against your little 'super slayer' rules?", I ask with sarcasm dripping from my lips like poison.  
  
"I would have thought there would be a series of knocks and a letter or two before you would dare to come into someone else's house. Or at least you should wait for an invitation."  
  
"I don't need an invitation, remember? I'm not a vampire. And neither was…"  
  
"Oh, would you just shut the fuck up and get the hell out of my home! I don't need to hear your shit."  
  
// don't fall away //  
  
I stand up, and grab my head as pain racks through it. Buffy rushes towards me, and touches me softly on my shoulder.  
  
"Are you okay? The door hit you really hard."  
  
I shake off her touch and push her away; not gently either. I stalk away from her, muttering nonsense to myself and just plain wishing she would leave so I could get on with what I want to do.  
  
// and leave love bleeding in my hands //  
  
  
  
"I'll be alright. Pity the same can't be said for…"  
  
I cut of my sentence, preoccupied with the little river of blood that is slowly but steadily running from my head.  
  
~It's the same color. It's all the same color.~  
  
// in my hands again //  
  
*****  
  
She stops talking and I fear the reason why.  
  
"Faith? Pity the same can't be said for who?"  
  
I walk up to her and try to touch her shoulder but instead I am greeted with her fist coming at my jaw with all the force of a Boeing 747. I stagger back, clutching my now bleeding jaw with my right hand, holding my left out in front of me, trying to ward off any more attacks.  
  
// and I wanted //  
  
"I want to help you Faith, but you have to let me in. Stop pushing me away!"  
  
*****  
  
// you turned away //  
  
"You want to help me? Me?! Oh my god, B. Don't you even go there. You want to know who I was talking about? Who its not alright for? YOU, B. It's not alright for you."  
  
I look at her, study her face and I see the confusion dance across it. She's trying to work out what I mean, and I decide to help her along.  
  
"You asked why I smell like gasoline?"  
  
I start to pace, rubbing my bleeding hands up and down my legs. As I rub, I re open the partially closed wounds and more blood flows free. My vision becomes blurred by my tears and the blood coming from the hole in my head from when B hit me with the door.  
  
"You. You are the reason for everything. Everyone loves Buffy, everyone wants to be Buffy. But does anyone want to be Faith? Does anyone love Faith? Does anyone even like me?"  
  
She starts to interrupt, but I'm talking now, and there's not gonna be any stopping me.  
  
// you don't remember //  
  
"When I first got here, everyone wanted to be my friend. Except you. And then you changed your mind. I don't know why, but you wanted to be my friend."  
  
More pacing and more blood. I'm not sure what will end first.  
  
"But that changed B. Do you remember when that changed?"  
  
// but I do //  
  
"That night haunts me. It follows me around, all day and all night. I close my eyes and the images are projected to my eye lids and it's like a movie that is stuck on the repeat cycle. But you were there too. You saw what happened. You saw…"  
  
My throat gets clogged up and I can't go on.  
  
~Well, I guess the blood will flow longer than the words.~  
  
*****  
  
// you never even tried //  
  
"You think you have it bad? Yes, I saw what happened. But then I saw what you did afterwards. You lied to Giles. You told him I killed him when really it was you. You killed him Faith. Not me. This is your problem."  
  
Suddenly, she threw her head and laughed a deep guttural laugh from the very pit of her belly.  
  
"My problem… my problem… the perfect Buffy can never be blamed for anything. My problem… my problem… you want to know what my problem is? Its not the fact that I accidentally killed a man. My problem is you. But I have the solution."  
  
Faith backed away and walked towards the tine closet. I went to follow her, but she whipped around and said, "Back off bitch, its my turn!"  
  
Stunned, I stopped dead in my tracks. Her tone of voice warned me against going any more forward.  
  
She began again with her warbles.  
  
"This is my show, my turn. Me, me, me. Not Buffy, nooo… not Buffy. This is the Faith show. You want to know my problem? You know my problem. You are my problem. But you know what?"  
  
she reached for the handle and pulled on it. The door swung open slowly and at the same time, she turned around.  
  
"I have a solution. Gasoline for the scene of the crimes. Crimes. Plural. As in more than one."  
  
She giggled a high pitched giggle, that madness glowing in her eyes and she reached for her back pocket. As she pulled out a box of matches, she stepped out of the way from the closet door and I saw what was in the closet.  
  
Tin drums, stacked hazardously against each other, all leaking the same putrid stench that clung to Faiths clothing.  
  
"Gasoline?"  
  
"No, its my solution. Happy Death Day to you, baby."  
  
She struck a match and threw it into the closet.  
  
"Faith, no!'  
  
// don't fall away... //  
  
~fin~ 


End file.
